


True Love

by EAWeek



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAWeek/pseuds/EAWeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ares and Xena the Conqueror spend a relaxing afternoon together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story I wrote years ago (back in the late 90s). I believe it was first published in a zine. I posted it on-line at fanfic.net, and recently had to reformat/ repost due to some weird glitches. I thought I would cross-post here, to share the smutty god of war goodness.

Title: **True Love**

Author: E.A. Week

E-mail: eaweek at gmail dot com; also on Live Journal as eaweek

Summary: Ares and Xena the Conqueror spend a relaxing afternoon together.

Category: Alt-universe/ timeline; romance (Xena/ Ares).

Warning: This story depicts scenes of violence and adult sexual acts.

Distribution: Feel free to link to this story, but **please** drop me at least a brief e-mail and let me know you've done this.

Feedback: Comments are always welcome! Loved it? Hated it? Leave a review, shoot me an email, and let me know why!

Disclaimer: All the _Hercules_ and _Xena_ characters belong to Rob Tapert, Sam Raimi, and Renaissance Pics. I'm just borrowing them, honest! : )

Disclaimer 2: This story is rated R for violence and adult sexual content. If you are under 18 and reading this, shame on you!

Possible spoilers: This is a steamy little out-take from the fourth season HTLJ episode "Armageddon Now, Part 2."

 

" _A hero? Me? Maybe I'll even find true love, huh?"_ –Xena, "Armageddon Now"

Xena left the field after the last cross had been pounded into place, giving word to her men to watch the dying prisoners vigilantly. There were those foolhardy souls who might attempt a rescue—relatives, sympathizers to the rebels' cause, slavers after the quick profits of contraband. The soldiers nodded. They understood all too well the price of allowing felons to escape: the luckless guard would take the prisoner's place on the cross.

On her way off the field, Xena paused at the feet of the female rebel. This particular cross had been placed on the highest ground, so that all who passed would see how Xena punished those who dared defy her. The small blonde woman seemed to be unconscious. With her legs broken, suffocation would come quickly. Xena snapped her fingers and a guard immediately put a spear in her hand. Xena jabbed at the girl's ribs until she jerked into awareness with a scream. Satisfied, Xena handed the weapon back to her man.

"See to it that she stays awake," Xena commanded, and swept away, escorted as always by a coterie of servants. They tended her needs, they tested her food, they shaded her from the sun. Xena preferred her skin very pale.

The palace at Corinth was not as elaborate as those Xena kept in other cities, but she'd had it renovated to suit her needs. Xena hated the blistering heat of Corinth in summer, but her presence had been necessary because of the recent uprisings. She'd arrived unexpectedly and dealt with the problem herself. Xena's practice was to come and go without warning or notice; she kept her enemies off-guard with her unpredictability. As her power had grown, so had the threat of potential assassination. Xena knew too well the folly of habit, having eliminated more than one foe by taking advantage of his routines.

The entourage of guards and servants led the Empress from the fields and into the walled city itself. Citizens leapt away and cowered in fear when she passed. Soldiers jumped to attention, snapping their heels together. Xena seemed to ignore them, but her hard eyes swept constantly from side to side, missing no detail.

Once inside the cool interior of the palace, Xena had the guards inspect her chambers before she entered. The men knew what to look for: traps, hidden weapons, hidden assassins. Xena minimized the chances of sudden death by keeping her decor sparse and minimal: no elaborate wall hangings, no profusion of plants, no cumbersome pieces of furniture. When she slept, she always had guards outside her door. Men could be treacherous, so Xena kept a pair of killer dogs in the room, animals specially bred and trained for viciousness by her own hand.

The room was immaculately clean. A tray of fresh fruit had been set out, and a pitcher of cold water. Xena waited while her small Asian serving boy sampled everything on the table. Xena had chosen him because of his uncanny resemblance to the dead Ming T'ien. After a few moments, he still lived. Xena dismissed the entire coterie of servants. Anyone who intended to poison her would undoubtedly use something fast-acting, as a slower toxin would give Xena the opportunity to purge herself or take an antidote.

She snapped her fingers twice, rapidly. The dogs sprang up to their feet. Xena pointed to the door. The animals immediately went and stood beside it. Xena snapped her fingers once, and the dogs lay down. They would not budge until Xena commanded them to move, and they would tear out the throat of the first person who opened the door without permission.

Xena nibbled a few grapes and drank her water. She couldn't wait to get out of this stinking hole of a city, back to one of her cooler palaces in the north. This afternoon, she would watch the blood combat between her current champion and whatever dolt felt like taking him on in challenge. The duels were always to the death; the winner earned the coveted position of Xena's chosen warrior. Avernius, her latest, had survived for nearly six months—a record.

Xena decided she would leave at sunset. The palace servants would no doubt assume she planned to hold one of her lavish banquets following the fights and depart the next morning. Xena would let the preparations continue; while everyone else was eating, she'd slip away. Her staff was used to picking up and leaving at a moment's notice, so there was no need to give word. Xena typically departed with only the clothes on her back; she kept a vast wardrobe at each of her palaces. There was nothing she needed to take with her, save her chakram, the only weapon she carried these days, and her scepter, the symbol of her power.

She gazed about the room with pleased eyes, her thoughts traveling back over the past dozen years. Who would ever have dreamed she'd come so far, the daughter of a soldier and a tavern-keeper? Her first real victory had been the conquest of Thrace, her homeland. She'd deposed the king, had him and his family executed, and taken command of his army and resources. Amphipolis was the only town she'd left untouched, but the people there still cursed her name. Xena's mother had hanged herself in despair.

Xena had taken her army and swept south, into Chalkidike, capturing the palace at Olynthos. She conquered the kingdom of Euboia next, using the island as a base to build a formidable navy. The rest of the mainland fell swiftly after that: Macedonia, Thessaly, Attica, Megarid, Corinth. Once she controlled the state of Corinth, Xena conquered the rest of the Peloponnese by starving the people into submission.

Xena by then commanded an army and a naval fleet the like of which the world had never seen, and she had all the wealth and resources of the Hellenic lands at her disposal. She was now ready to fulfill the goal she'd set for herself at the time she'd returned from Chin five years earlier: the conquest of Rome.

Xena first infiltrated the lands around the city itself by sending her men across the waters in the guise of merchants and settlers. The planning took months, but by the time her warships arrived, the effort paid off handsomely. Xena's army sacked the countryside; the people's defenses had been crippled by her spies. The siege of the royal city itself took several more months, but once Xena had cut off the food supply, it was just a matter of waiting for starvation and desertions to take their toll.

One of Xena's battleships captured Julius Caesar as he attempted to flee the embattled city by water, and dragged the deposed emperor back to her. At first, the arrogant nobleman refused to believe that the barbarian woman who'd sacked his kingdom was the same one he'd crucified, crippled, and left for dead some seven years earlier. Xena saw to it that he would regret his treachery against her for all eternity.

For days, she subjected Caesar to the most unholy tortures which the mind was capable of imagining. She ordered her men to keep him conscious, to stop just short of killing him. Yet Caesar held his silence with an obstinacy that infuriated Xena. He would not give her the satisfaction of crying out in pain, not even once. She broke his bones, she had him flayed, she had him burned, she put out his eyes. Finally, she had the broken, mangled remains of him tied to her horse, and dragged him through the streets of Rome while her men cheered wildly. What little remained of Xena's humanity evaporated on that day. But Caesar died without uttering a peep, and all the triumphs she'd won since then could not assuage Xena's frustration at her failure to break his spirit.

With the Roman empire secured, Xena turned west. Her army smashed Gaul, conquering every mile of territory up to the frozen northern seas, then took the islands of Britannia and Scotia. The warrior-princess who had grown into the Destroyer of Nations returned to her homeland known simply as the Conqueror.

Xena's ambitions, fueled by undying hatred and bloodlust, drove her south. Her army swept across the desert, seizing Egypt and the fertile Nile delta. She sailed south around Arabia to the Indus peninsula, where she conquered the Mauryan Empire. Finally, she turned northeast, towards the Kingdom of Chin. She toppled Ming T'ien, a despot ruler since Xena had killed his father. And Lao Ma, T'ien's mother, long since executed by her son, was not there to defend her offspring. Xena seized Chin and ultimately all the surrounding kingdoms; she had the rulers and their families executed.

Her army followed the Silk Route westward on its return journey. Kingdom after kingdom fell in her wake: Sogdiana, Margiana, Parthia, Media, Mesopotomia, the Assyrian Empire. She veered north, then west, capturing Armenia, Cappadocia, Phrygia, Mysia, and Troas. With the Hellespont under her control, the circle of power was closed. Xena then set about securing one kingdom after another, until no piece of territory, from one horizon to the other, did not pay homage to the Conqueror.

Xena reveled in the wealth of her plundered lands. She ceased her ways of barbaric depravity and cultivated the regal airs of an empress, clothing herself in the finest silks and jewels. When Xena returned to the Hellenic states, a caravan of goods and servants accompanied her. Her slaves built magnificent cities and palaces.

There had been a few rebellions, true, the occasional uprising, but Xena's brutal regime swiftly crushed what little opposition there had been. She ruled with terror. Most people kept out of her way and counted their blessings if she merely used them as chattel. Xena's exquisite understanding of human nature, of people's deepest fears and desires, enabled her to exploit weaknesses within her foes. When a rebel arose, Xena had him—or her—swiftly captured and put to death, usually in a public, humiliating ceremony.

Xena used threats against friends and family members to keep down the possibility of revolution; she starved and cowed her populace so that they would not have the strength or the resources to rise up against her; she made speaking in public a crime punishable by death; she forbade literacy; she imposed heavy taxes to assure perpetual poverty; she employed imprisonment, torture, and execution liberally.

Now, but one ambition remained: the consolidation of her empire. Languidly, Xena strolled over to her mirror. She carefully removed her golden headdress, then unpinned her hair. The unbound length of it fell beyond the small of her back, the dark mass made glossy and soft from constant, pampered care. Xena slipped out of her sandals and stood barefoot on the carpet. She unfastened the belt of her robe and set the gown aside, caressing the embroidery on the black silk. Xena loved the elegance and comfort of eastern robes, how beautifully the silk fell about her, how the simple cut of the garments enhanced her height and build to their best effect.

Beneath the gown, she wore a simple shift of dark red silk. Xena unlaced this and let it drop to the floor, admiring the musculature and curves of her body in the mirror. She felt a shiver in the air, and stood with a smile touching the corners of her mouth. A moment later, a familiar figure stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, fingers moving down over the skin of her arm.

"You do know how to get my attention, don't you?"

Xena laughed softly and slid her arms around Ares, pulling his head down to her own. She kissed him deeply, growing tense with desire as his fingers moved from her waist up her ribs to her breasts, then her shoulders. Her own hands deftly unfastened his swordbelt. The heavy weapon fell to the floor with an unheard thud. While her tongue flicked in and out of his mouth, her fingers found the fold of his leather tunic and opened it, pushing the garment off his shoulders to the floor. Ares kicked off one boot, then the other. He stood while Xena unlaced his trousers and let them drop to the carpet, then kicked those away as well. He drew Xena to him, pulling her into a tight embrace. They kissed with more and more passion.

Finally, Ares lifted and carried Xena to her bed. She loved the god's urgency and impatience. The fact that he had seemingly no control over his desires had allowed Xena to draw him into her power, as surely as her mortal followers. He'd granted her favors, given her victory, facilitated her conquest of the world. In return, Xena had led an army for his glory as well as her own gain; she'd had fabulous temples built for the god in every land she conquered; she kept him satisfied sexually, as no woman ever had. It had been a profitable partnership for them both.

Xena lay back on the silken coverlet. She gave Ares a smoldering, tempestuous look and opened her legs for him. He stared down at the glistening folds of her womanhood with eyes full of an unspeakable lust. Then he dropped down to the coverlet and buried his face between her thighs. Xena sighed softly and laced her fingers through his curly hair. She made sensual noises of appreciation in her throat as he licked and nibbled and sucked. Her body was consumed with pleasure, but her mind remained oddly detached, watching the performance with amusement. She'd never had a lover who could please her like Ares, but she would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Ares turned his attention to her thigh, and began trailing wet, soft kisses down the inside of her leg. Xena's mind went back over the years of their affair. He'd first appeared to her when she'd returned from Chin, in the days when she'd been building up her army, raiding villages, and planning her conquest of Thrace. But they hadn't become lovers until she'd taken Athens. Xena's men sacked the splendid Temple of Athena; Xena sacrificed the high priest to Ares with her own hand. The god had turned up then. Xena vividly remembered the thrill of Ares practically throwing her onto the altar, pulling up the skirt of her battle dress, and making love to her with the mindlessness of a beast in rut.

She murmured when Ares kissed her right foot, then switched to the left. He worked his way up the underside of her left leg, and when he reached the top of her thigh, turned his mouth into her quim once again. Xena threw back her head and laughed silently.

Ares had been her constant companion throughout her battle campaigns, although few of her men realized this. The god kept himself invisible to all but a chosen few of Xena's warriors. He'd been with her when she took Rome; he was at her side when she tortured Caesar; he accompanied her to Gaul and Britannia, then later to Egypt and Indus and Chin. He granted Xena victories and advised her on strategy, lured into generosity by the potent thrall of her sexual prowess. He even gave her nectar to drink, which kept her body young, her face unlined, and made her beauty glow with an almost unnatural incandescence. Xena had had no other lovers since Ares had manifested himself to her. Why should she dally with some sniveling mortal, when she had such a magnificent god attending to her pleasures?

She felt the hot wetness of his mouth moving up her belly and her ribs, then her breasts. He suckled one nipple, then the other, kissing and nuzzling the soft flesh, tickling her with his beard. Ares kissed his way up her breastbone to her shoulders, then her neck, finally moving from her ear along her jawline to her mouth. Xena pulled his head down and thrust her tongue into his mouth, tasting herself when she did so. Now she felt his hands on her thighs. Her own fingers moved down his torso, running through the silky black hair to where it thickened on his pelvis. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and worked him expertly. Ares moaned in his throat, the way he always did when Xena touched him like this.

At last, Xena lifted her hips and drew his body to her own. She felt the probing of his cock, and let forth a single, erotic cry when he took her. Xena always timed her movements and noises exquisitely, to their best effect, and it never failed to drive Ares half out of his mind. They began moving together in their familiar rhythm. Xena pushed against the god with greedy hunger. He was the only lover she'd ever had who could fulfill her on every level, the only one whose strength and appetite matched her own. She ran her hands up and down his beautifully muscled arms, from elbow to shoulder, then slid her arms around his back. His breath was humid and sweet in her face.

Ares had amazing longevity; he could keep making love for hours at a time, allowing Xena to reach the pinnacle of pleasure again and again. Xena encouraged him with her voice, murmuring and sighing and gasping with relish, cooing vulgar praises to his strength, his vigor, his skill, the size of his phallus. What man would not enjoy being so flattered? Xena couldn't decide whether Ares knew her game, or whether he was he was truly a prisoner of his own lust. Not that it made any difference. Unlike mortals, who might be exploited for such a weakness, Ares could indulge every want without fear that his desire might be used against him. Xena herself could not afford such a luxury.

Ares kept at her until the slant of the sun in the sky told Xena that if they didn't stop soon, she wouldn't have time to wash and change before going back out to the fights. She increased the intensity of her lovemaking bit by bit, thrashing and crying out as though in the grip of an unbearable passion. Her sluttish endearments finally got to Ares and he lost control completely, moaning her name as his seed spurted deep inside her.

They lay together resting for a while, kissing and caressing each other in the delicious afterglow. Finally, Xena disentangled herself from the god's arms and legs.

"I'm leaving as soon as the fights are over," she told him. "I'm sailing for Anaktorion." The sheltered city on the west coast of Akarnania would be much cooler. Xena could make unscheduled stops along the way and inspect the coastal cities in the Gulf of Corinth.

"Hmm." Ares gazed over at her, dark eyes glowing.

"I'm starting my next campaign," she said, reaching out to stroke the beautiful bones of his face.

Ares lifted his eyebrows. There wasn't much land left for Xena to conquer.

"Consolidation," she said. "Securing my empire for the future." She leaned down and kissed Ares deeply, lingering on the sensual fullness of his mouth. "I'm pregnant."

Ares jolted upright. His face and eyes blazed with excitement. "You are?" He put a hand on Xena's belly, then leaned and pressed an ear against her taut abdomen.

"I'm a few days late," said Xena, running her fingers through the luxurious softness of his curls. "But I'm sure it's a baby."

Ares kissed the skin of her belly, then slowly worked his way up to her neck, then her mouth. She could feel him shaking with delight and surprise.

"There's two of them," he said.

"Twins?" echoed Xena.

"Two boys." Ares pulled Xena to him and kissed her deeply. "By the gods, you are magnificent," he whispered, and kissed her again.

Xena laughed softly. "Just think of it," she said. "Your sons, _our_ sons, ruling the farthest reaches of my empire." She brushed her mouth across his beard. "Leading your armies." Another kiss. "For centuries more to come."

Ares caressed Xena's face. "You are perfect," he said, and gave her another hungry kiss. Then he began laughing. "The other gods will curse this day, my precious." Xena laughed too, catching his meaning. The influence of Ares was already powerful enough, thanks to Xena's work, and would only become greater as their children established dynasties throughout the world. Xena thought of the future, which looked very promising indeed.

As for herself...? Ares touched her with an absolute worshipfulness, and kissed her forehead as if in token of betrothal. Xena shivered quietly. Her own reward would be immortality, then possibly godhood.

As if reading her mind, Ares kissed her mouth and said softly, " _Enyo_." Xena knew what that name meant: his female consort, the goddess of war. Her fingers laced around his, their hands squeezing tightly. Xena was startled to feel a twinge of tenderness somewhere deep inside herself. She laughed beneath her breath. Maybe she'd found true love after all. She smiled at Ares. With a languid stretch, she went to wash and dress. She didn't want to miss the fights.

(ii)

Ares looked up, startled, when a strange man came dashing into the temple. The god sat in his large chair, absently caressing his favorite among the trophy skulls Xena had given him: the head of Julius Caesar.

"Ares," the man gasped. "Ares, I'm back." He was a short, muscular fellow in early middle age, with curly blonde hair and oddly-styled clothing. "But something's gone horribly wrong. Callisto succeeded. Alcmene's dead. Hercules doesn't exist any more! You've got to send me back, to make things right! Please!"

Ares could barely comprehend this babble. Back where? He recognized none of the names the man had spit out at him.

"Two things," said Ares, setting down the skull of Caesar. "First—who are you? Second—who in Tartarus is Hercules?"

"Hercules!" said the man. He looked desperate. "The only one who can stop Xena!"

"XENA!" roared Ares, hopping down from his seat. The most brilliant general who'd ever served him, his consort and bride, soon to be the mother of his heirs. "Xena Xena Xena Xena Xena Xena Xena," he said rapidly, just for the pleasure of saying her name over and over. "The sound of her name excites me! Cold, heartless, merciless XENA!" He paused and took another look at the flabbergasted stranger. "Why would you want to stop her?"

**~The End~**

 


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